Summer Time
by reraimu
Summary: ...and the living's easy. For Scotty Smalls, it sort of isn't. He harbors feelings for Benny, but the star baseball player is rather oblivious to his feelings. Or is he? SLASH Benny/Smalls
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: Smalls harbors feelings for Benny, but the star baseball player is rather oblivious to his feelings. Or is he? SLASH Balls**

**Rating: T**

**Pairing: Benny/Smalls Balls lol**

**Genre: Romance/Drama/Angst**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it, never will.**

**Warning: Slash**

**Tweekerz' Author's Note:**

**- Hey! Soooo, I've only seen one slash fic involving Benny and Smalls, and I want to correct that. Hell, I expected there to be more fics of them in general, at least friendship fics at the least, but there aren't any! Wassup with that? **

**- I'm a slasher, as you might have guessed, and seriously…I would have probably never thought up of this pairing if The Sandlot hadn't been playing on ABC Family a couple of months ago. Eh, it's weird; I like slashing things, anything really. I was pretty much drawn into this pairing when I tested it out in my head—it's really effing cute, I'm not kidding.**

**- REMEMBER, THIS IS SLASH, meaning boy/boy relationships. If you don't like slash, please don't read and flame. I'm warning you now!**

**- Sorry if I ruin your childhood with this, your fault for reading!**

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The splintered bench pressed against his legs, its frayed texture grating against his skin. Scotty Smalls, who usually went by his last name, grimaced as wooden splinters raked across his calves. He dismissed the prickly sensation and waved it away. The bench seat was cool, and the awning above provided shade and relief from the sweltering afternoon sun. The splintered texture of the bench was a trivial matter- if Tommy ever heard him complaining, the boy would be sure to repeat it to the rest of his friends, even worse, to Ham, who usually had some scathing insult or witty retort up his sleeve.

Smalls tilted his head back and shifted his cap, beads of sweat trailing down his neck. He leaned further into the seat of the bench, jutting his legs out in front of him. It was a good thing he still insisted on wearing shorts, even though the others (mainly Ham) complained because they said it made him look more of a wimp than a rough and tough baseball player. He could sort of agree with them too. He scanned his cerulean eyes across the dusty field, noticing that Yeah-Yeah and Squints and the rest of his friends were clad in denim blue jeans.

Smalls should have been used to the heat by now, after all, he had been living in Los Angeles for almost four years, ever since he first moved to the blustering LA as that timid, awkward kid who couldn't catch a ball for the life of him. He smiled at the memory, his cheeks flushing in embarrassment. He was still that same shy kid from long ago, but he had integrated fairly well into the now tight-knit circle of baseball enthusiasts he liked to call his friends. Despite how rough it had been getting to earn their trust and respect, Smalls had it good. School had let out about two weeks ago and he'd be going into the 10th grade when school started up again, but for now, he couldn't think of any other way than to spend the summer playing ball with his friends in the Sandlot.

Sweat dripped in droplets down the sides of his face, prickling along the base of his neck, but Smalls made no move to wipe the offending liquid away. Summers in Southern California were hot and humid, occasionally dry if the Santa Ana winds rolled by, but Smalls had learned to deal with the heat. There was nothing a chilled bottle of Coke couldn't fix. Speaking of Coke…

Smalls straightened himself and groped for the glass bottle, his fingers wrapping around its slender form as he brought the cool bottle to his lips. He took one long gulp of the carbonated beverage and let it slide down his throat, a residual acidic burn tingling along his tongue. Ah, sometimes good things came in small packages.

"'Sup Smalls."

Smalls spluttered and choked on his drink, the syrupy liquid dribbling down his chin where it collected into a stain on the collar of his t-shirt. The blond continued to cough and sputter, trying desperately to get his throat clear enough to murmur out a hasty, "B-**B**enny, h-hey!"

The older teen had taken a seat beside him, thick onyx hair mussed about his head as sweat glistened along his brow. Benny's tanned face was flushed from the heat and the teen's breath was ragged and clipped, his tongue occasionally flickering out past his lips—Smalls' heart might have skipped a beat.

"Ha ha, sorry about that," Benny apologized, rubbing a hand through his hair. He let a lazy grin scrawl across his lips, before settling his coffee hued eyes on the bottle of Coke still clasped in Smalls' hands. "Hey, uh, can I get a swig of that?"

Smalls gulped and stared down at the bottle of Coke. He had no idea why he was hesitating; it shouldn't have been that hard of a decision. They all shared their food and drink with each other, there was no harm in it if you excluded the fact that they were swapping spit and germs (well, that was really kind of gross anyway, but he decided not to voice that awareness aloud). Smalls shook his head and gave a deft nod, passing the bottle into Benny's eager hands.

"Bitchin'," Benny beamed, bringing the bottle to his lips. He titled his head back, revealing the tanned skin of his throat, and Smalls couldn't help but just stare at the other teen's Adam's Apple as it bobbed up and down- Benny was practically guzzling down the entire beverage. Heck, Smalls didn't even care if Benny finished off the bottle, as long as he could continue watching- .

No. No, no, no, no, no, no. His thoughts were fast straying into uncharted territory, something he liked to call his forbidden-zone. He didn't feel like delving into the frenzied pit of his emotions, not today, not right now; not when Benny was seated right beside him. Not to mention that it was all sorts of wrong.

He tried to reason with himself: Benny's a nice guy, he's a really, really nice, chill guy. So what if Smalls often got nervous around the Latino, so what if his heart sped up and his face flushed an embarrassing shade of pink whenever the older teen did something especially endearing, like when Benny would ruffle his hair or give him a pat on the shoulder, or come to his defense when Ham was being especially scathing. They were friendly gestures, Smalls concluded, and the feelings they stirred were nothing but platonic.

Smalls was kidding himself.

"Thanks man, I needed that," Benny breathed, wiping his mouth off with his free hand. He handed the bottle back to Smalls, which was now half-empty, and before standing up and jogging away, Benny turned around and flashed Smalls a languid smile. Smalls could practically feel his heart flutter in his chest. Oh God, he felt like such a girl.

He stared down at the Coke bottle nestled in his lap, anchoring his gaze on the rim where Benny's lips had been just a few seconds previous. What if he were to take a swig from that same exact spot? Smalls frowned at the notion, his brow furrowing. It'd be just like a kiss, an indirect one, and the thought of it made him slightly nauseous, in a weird butterflies-in-the-stomach kind of way. Deciding he'd rather not barf all over his sneakers, Smalls tepidly set the bottle beside him on the bench and resumed watching the make-shift game taking place in the Sandlot.

Squints was busy re-adjusting his glasses, which were still too big on him if you asked Smalls, and Ham was busy perfecting his umpire skills of distraction. He could practically see the blue vein pulsing angrily along Yeah-Yeah's temple as he waited for Benny to pitch the ball.

And why was Smalls not out there on the field having fun with them?

It was simply too hot; he didn't care if they all called him a wuss afterwards.

Smalls tilted his head back and sighed.

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**Tweekerz' Author's Notes:**

**- I had the biggest crush on Benny when I was kid. I used to watch this movie almost everyday at the babysitters. Good times, good times.** **My brother would always reenact the part when Benny jumps over the fence with the Beast sprinting behind him. Hot moment.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Next one! Have I ruined your childhood yet? Huh? Prolly not. -shrugs-**

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After the sun had dipped low into the sky and bursts of purple and orange began to layer about the atmosphere, Benny finally signaled for the game to end by whistling with his fingers. Reluctantly, all the teenagers wearily packed up their belongings and began their trek across the Sandlot, their sneakers kicking up dirt and grass behind them.

Smalls stood up from his seat on the bench and stretched his limbs, chucking his left over Coke bottle in the trashcan beside him. He let out a yawn and a satisfied smile as a soft breeze brushed along his arms, causing the blond hairs there to stand on end. Dusting the back of his shorts off, Smalls stepped out into the field and began his route back home.

Not a single one of his friends remained on the field now, most of them already trudging along the streets to get to their respected houses. The Sandlot was bathed in an eerie light, not entirely dark, but not too luminous either, and Smalls had the sense to hurry along. Not even halfway across the Sandlot, Smalls spotted a lone figure leaning against the chain link fence in the distance. The blond's heart rate sped up as his fingers twitched nervously at his sides.

_Remain cool, remain cool._

Benny had his arms crossed over his chest, the teen's back leaning against the fence as his jean-clad legs crossed one over the other. Smalls always like the way Benny looked in jeans, since the Latino usually wore straight-legged ones, which were almost always folded at the ends. The material always seemed to hug Benny's legs, something Smalls wish he could pull off—alas, Benny was the star of the Sandlot and was one hell of a runner, the kid had been given a gift.

"Hey, thought I'd wait up for you," Benny grinned, drawing away from the chain fence. He had a gritty baseball gripped in one hand and a bat lunged over his shoulder. His baseball jersey, which was untucked and hanging freely in front of him, was littered with dirt and grass stains, and the white wife beater underneath was worse-for-wear. "Sorry about your Coke, I'll buy ya' another one next time."

"Uh, no! It's okay," Smalls appeased, sticking his hands into the pockets of his shorts. "It was a hot day."

"No kidding," Benny laughed, swiveling the bat on his shoulder. They both walked along the field, clouds of dust and clay kicking up around their feet, and a comfortable silence passed between them, neither of the teenagers saying a word. The wind was remarkably cooler than it was when the sun had been aloft, and Smalls smiled as a gust of wind caressed his face. He began to wonder if they'd continue the trek to their homes in the bubble of companionable silence they had erected, and he found that he really didn't mind it much. They had the whole summer to laugh and joke around.

They both crossed the street after waiting for a passing car to drive by, and once they set foot on the sidewalk, they mingled down the pavement side by side.

"We should all head downtown this summer, maybe head down to _La Placita_," Benny suddenly chimed, casting a glance at Smalls. The blond boy perked his head up, momentarily dazed at the loss of amiable silence, but quickly worked Benny's statement in his mind.

"O-oh, yeah! What's that again?" Smalls piped, fingering the ratty glove in his hands. He smiled at Benny—he tried to ignore the charming smile on the elder's lips.

"The market on Olvera?" Benny supplied, cocking a brow.

"Oh, that place! That'd be pretty cool. Would our parents drive us there?" the blond wondered. Benny snorted through his nose, a small laugh leaving from his mouth, and Smalls realized that he had said something particularly lame. The younger teen's face flushed—he was very grateful that it was fast turning dark.

"Nah, we'd just take the bus," Benny chided, lightly smacking the rim of Smalls' cap. Smalls didn't think it was possible for his face to turn any darker, but it had.

"B-but, we could get lost, or miss our stop, or…something," Smalls supplied, nervously picking at the loose tendrils of string sticking out his glove. "I can always have my mom drive us there if you- ."

"Seriously, Smalls," Benny laughed, turning his head. Smalls gulped and met the older teen's eyes. The blond realized that Benny looked just as alluring as he did after playing a round of ball. The older teen's face was no longer glistening with sweat, and his hair was not as mussed as it had been, instead framing his face with sporadic, dark ringlets. Benny smirked. "As long as you're with me, you'll be fine. Oh hey, we're here."

Smalls nearly let out a chaste gasp when he found they were already standing outside his house. He could see his mother through the window tinkering away on the stove, and the spicy aroma of flavored meat and other spices seeped from his doorway.

"Smells good, huh," Benny stated, skidding his shoe across the pavement. Smalls nodded along. "Well, see ya' Smalls. Sandlot at one tomorrow, 'kay?"

Smalls watched Benny wave and continue onward, and with a weary sigh, the blond turned and trekked down the concrete pathway leading to his front porch. Unbeknownst to Benny, Smalls halted at his porch step and gazed after the retreating form of his friend, his stomach seemingly doing somersaults as Benny's form continued to grow smaller and smaller.

Sometimes, he hated that feeling.

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**A/N: Hopefully I converted someone to this pairing, and if so, write more Benny/Smalls! There's nada! Leave a review please!**

**By the way, La Placita Olvera is this awesome market place in LA. I've been there many, many times. They have restaurants and all sorts of booths selling neat little trinkets. It's right across from the Union Station! :D**


	3. Chapter 3

Smalls awoke to a tap at his window.

Any other person would have panicked after hearing something tap at your window, but Smalls had grown accustomed to it, welcomed it even. He knew exactly who was on the other side of the glass.

The teen sat up in his bed, the remnants of deep sleep blurring his vision and making his head feel hazy and light. He rubbed at his eyes and pulled the coverlet from his body, throwing his legs over the edge of his mattress. With a small sigh and a stretch of his limbs, Smalls stood up from his bed and padded over to his window, throwing his curtains aside in one fell swoop.

His breath caught at the sight of a smiling Benny who stood outside his window, a baseball bat trailing leisurely from his shoulder. The tanned teen tapped at the windowpane with the pads of his fingers, and Smalls shook himself from his stupor as he reached over and unlatched the window. He slid it up until it could go no further and stuck his head out, his cheeks flushing pink when Benny's warm breath ghosted across his face.

"Get dressed," Benny whispered, pressing his arms to the windowsill. He leaned forward and stared up at Smalls, dark eyelashes framing his eyes perfectly.

"W-what, are you kidding me? It's…" Smalls trailed away and peered at the alarm clock on his dresser. "…one o' clock in the morning!"

Benny smiled a Cheshire smile, his white teeth gleaming in the night. "Yeah, so?"

Smalls backed away and pressed a hand to his stomach, trying to figuratively quell the swell of emotion bubbling at its pit. He stared down at Benny, who was dressed in an unbuttoned cotton flannel, the sleeves ripped off at the shoulder. Underneath lay a plain white tee.

"Where are we going?" Smalls asked quietly, already finding himself digging through the contests of his dresser. He withdrew with a pair of khaki shorts and a dark red tee.

"Liquor store, then maybe the Sandlot," Benny supplied, resting his chin on the windowsill. His caramel colored eyes peered through the darkness, where Smalls still stood hugging his clothes to his chest. The blond shifted awkwardly about his feet. It wasn't as if he were self-conscious, he had changed in front of boys plenty of times in the locker rooms at school, the only difference was that Benny hadn't been in there with him. For some reason he felt slightly discomfited and uncomfortable standing there in his room, silently urging Benny to turn around, or something, anything, as long as the elder didn't look at him while changing.

"Could you, uhm…" Smalls breathed.

"Just hurry and get dressed," Benny huffed, rolling his eyes.

"But…" Smalls trailed off, averting his eyes.

"Smalls, we're both guys, who cares?" Benny drawled. "But if it'll make you hurry up…" Benny shut his eyes, his chin still resting against the windowsill. Reprieve flooding through him, Smalls quickly shimmied off his sleeping shirt and hauled the tee over his head, and then set to work on his shorts. Once everything had been fastened in place, Smalls jerked his head up and nearly gasped when he found Benny staring across at him.

"Hurry," Benny whispered impatiently. Shaking himself, Smalls scrounged around the floor for his sneakers and kicked them on. He tied the laces and stood up, searching his dresser for his mitt. Once finding it, he scooped it up and slowly padded his way towards the window. Benny backed away and opted for leaning against the side of Smalls' house, watching amusedly as the blond awkwardly tried to fit himself through the window. Once getting himself through, Smalls hopped down and closed the window halfway shut, dusting his hands off on his shorts.

"Oh shoot, I forgot my wallet," Smalls hissed, smacking his hand against his forehead.

"I got it covered," Benny intervened, and patted his pocket. "We'll get a couple of Cokes and head to the Sandlot. Cool?"

Smalls nodded and they both trudged across the front lawn. The soles of their sneakers slapped against the pavement as they made there way down the sidewalk, the cool night breeze fanning across them. Smalls noted that he had forgotten to put his cap on, but he ignored his absentmindedness in favor of the wind brushing through the choppy, layered strands of his hair.

"I gotta' cut my hair," Smalls laughed, running his fingers through the blond strands.

"Nah, leave it."

Smalls dropped his hand and turned to Benny, who was busy staring ahead, twirling the bat beside him. As if sensing Smalls' curious stare, Benny slowly turned his gaze to meet the blond's and grinned.

"But its summer, and I bet it's just gonna' get in the way when he play," Smalls reasoned, gently smacking his fist into his baseball mitt. Plus, it would get all sweaty and matted when he put his hat on.

Benny shrugged and turned his head away, trailing the bat softly along the grass beside him. "Your choice I guess, but I like it that way. No biggie."

"Oh," Smalls mumbled. "Okay."

A long silence popped up between them, not like the relaxed stillness that had manifested earlier in the day. This one was gauche and uncomfortable, and Smalls desperately tried to think up of something to fill the gap, but his brain came up with nothing plausible.

"Hey Benny, whatever happened to that girl?"

The words escaped before he had time to shut his mouth. Smalls immediately clammed up and fluttered his eyes, mentally scolding himself for being so stupid, stupid, stupid. If that didn't scream awkward, then he didn't know what would. As if it weren't weird enough already.

"Annie?" Benny queried, his voice low and soft. Smalls nodded, his mouth pursed. "Why?"

"No reason," Smalls hastily replied, stuffing his free hand into the pocket of his shorts.

"Then why'd you ask?" Benny questioned, cocking one dark eyebrow. He eyed Smalls from the corner of his eye, but the blond had averted his gaze, staring off somewhere across the street. A car rumbled by them, smoke from the exhaust coiling about the air and filtering through their noses. Smalls gagged at the briny, bitter smell.

"W-well, you guys were together for a while, and then…you weren't the last two months of school," Smalls stumbled, fingering the gum wrapper lodged in his pocket. It seemed his mother had forgotten to check his pockets before washing.

"And you're barely asking now?" Benny asked incredulously, a laugh in his voice. "Smalls, that was kind of a long time ago."

"I didn't wanna' just ask you!" Smalls defended, the tip of his sneaker accidentally scuffing against the cement. He looked down at his feet in irritation. "I mean, it would've been kinda' weird to just, you know, to just…I don't know. You didn't tell anyone anyway."

_You didn't tell me_, he wanted to say.

"It's sorta' private," Benny whispered, tapping his bat along the sidewalk. "Sorry Smalls."

"No, s'okay. I was just wondering," Smalls quipped, red dusting his face. He didn't want to tell Benny that no, he really wasn't okay. The statement hurt Smalls far more than he let on; his heart squeezed in his chest and a thin film of discontent seemed to hover over his body. During school, when Smalls had been a freshman and Benny a Sophomore, the Latino had randomly showed up to school one day with a girl draped under his arm. She was a pretty girl, the trophy girlfriend that anyone would die to have, with long brunette hair that was teased and stood high atop her head. Her smile was disarming and her eyes a vivid shade of green, and when she smiled, she glowed. However, those were only face-value observances—not once had Smalls talked to her, even though she was Benny's girlfriend, and Smalls considered Benny to be a rather close friend. The star baseball player hadn't even introduced her to the kids of the Sandlot, and during that school year, Smalls never brought her up on the rare occasion when they'd spend lunch together. Benny either ate lunch with Annie in a secluded place, or ate somewhere off campus. They didn't even talk about her during the sporadic after school Sandlot game.

And when Benny showed up to school with her no longer under his arm, no one questioned him still. Smalls had started to wonder if Benny's relationships were deemed off-limits.

And suddenly, that seemed to be the answer to all his problems. His face broke out into a smile, blue eyes glittering. He needed to get a girlfriend, just like Benny had. It wouldn't be hard—all he had to do was fix himself up a little bit, wear his best shirt, maybe even start wearing jeans like all the rest of the boys. He could begin scouting at the library, or even wander over to a nearby shopping center and search there. If he had still been in school, finding a girlfriend would be much easier, but since it was summer vacation, Smalls couldn't do anything about that. If he had a girlfriend, he could distract himself from Benny, and in a way, it would be a small form of payback. Smalls could test the waters and find firm ground on where he stood with his unwarranted feelings for the boy who had ignored him nearly all year. He didn't know why he hadn't realized this before.

"Smalls?"

Smalls turned and beamed a vibrant smile to his friend, who was staring at him in perplexity. Smalls' mood change had been too sudden, and Benny had noticed it.

"Ha ha, yeah?" the blond laughed, meeting Benny's incredulous stare.

"You okay?"

Smalls hesitated for a second, before nodding his head enthusiastically. "Let's go get those Cokes!"


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary: Summer time...and the living's easy. For Scotty Smalls, it sort of isn't. He harbors feelings for Benny, but the star baseball player is rather oblivious to them. Or is he? SLASH Benny/Smalls**

**Tweekerz: So sorry for not updating this in forever. I finally got my ass into gear when I recorded The Sandlot on Encore 8D**

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Smalls stood before his dresser mirror, staring across at his reflection with a slight frown. He tilted his head from side to side, rolling his shoulders as he checked himself over. He looked…strange, not in a bad way mind you, but in a way that looked altered and foreign. His hair was tidily coiffed to the side; face washed and scrubbed until his skin glowed pink. He had spent a good 10 minutes picking at the grit and dirt underneath his nails, flicking away the grime until his nails practically shined. It was sort of disgusting, but spending nearly all his time at the Sandlot didn't leave room for hygiene. Smalls often came home dirty and sweaty, an occasional bruise dotting his face and legs, but hey, the Sandlot wasn't a day spa. It was a dirty, gritty baseball field housing equally as dirty and gritty teenagers.

He buttoned the last button on his red flannel and stepped back, rolling up the sleeves until they rested at his elbows. Benny and the guys wore flannels for everyday wear, usually unbuttoned with a t-shirt underneath, but Smalls being Smalls, it just didn't feel right for him to leave his flannel unbuttoned- at least he didn't tuck the damn thing in; now that would have made him look like a complete queer. He looked down at his dark wash jeans, a pair of red Chucks sheathing his feet. Should he roll the ends of his pant legs up? Smalls sighed and relented—if he wanted to look presentable enough to attract a girl's attention, he'd have to wager for any trend that was in right now. He leaned down and began folding the ends of his pant legs. When he stood back up, he looked into the mirror once more and grunted, threading his fingers through his hair until blond strands stuck out in wayward directions, some falling down by his ears, some tickling the back of his neck. He was always one for neatness when it came to hair, but in this circumstance, he'd have to keep it "neatly messy", or whatever. Chicks digged that right? He should probably invest in some hair gel later and play around with a few hairstyles. Smalls frowned—he was thinking like such a girl.

Finally, he turned away from the mirror and pocketed his wallet and house keys. He wriggled his nose at the sight of his jacket strewn haphazardly on the floor, debating on whether to bring it with him or not. He shook his head—it was going to be another sweltering day today, and to bring a jacket along would only hinder him. Smalls swiftly exited out his room and padded down the hallway, patting the wallet in his pocket. As he neared the living room, the smell of popcorn filtered through his nasal cavity and he picked up his head, spotting his mother and Bill nestled on the couch in front of the TV, a bowl of popcorn settled between them. His mother turned her head and peered over the couch, flashing him a smile.

"Hey sweety, want me to make you some lunch?"

Smalls smiled and shook his head. "No, thanks. I'm gonna' be heading out now. I'll buy something to eat at a convenience store or something."

"Are you going to the Sandlot? You look nice today," she queried, popping a piece of popcorn into her mouth. Speaking of the Sandlot, he hadn't even told Benny that he wasn't going to be joining him today.

"Uhm, no," Smalls answered carefully. He didn't want to tell her that he was set on snagging himself a girlfriend today. He didn't need to get the third degree from his mother, and just thinking about what he was going to do made him feel really, really pathetic. "I'm going with a friend. We might go to the movies or something." Satisfied with his answer, his mother simply nodded and resumed watching TV, occasionally shoveling a handful of popcorn into her mouth. Waving a hasty goodbye, Smalls exited out the front door and set his destination: the corner market.

* * *

Smalls awkwardly swiveled his seat, tapping his fingers along the frosty beverage cupped between his hands. He sucked deftly at the straw, a goopy stream of chocolate entering his mouth and sliding down his throat. When he had gotten to the market, he decided the best place to begin scouting would be the local soda fountain which was right across from it, also known as Marty's Malt Shop to the locals. He'd buy himself a shake and maybe a burger, and then play the waiting game. Maybe he'd run into a few girls from school, not like he talked to many of them. The only girl he hung out with was Rita Lesley, who also happened to be a tomboy.

"Scotty!"

Well, speak of the devil.

A tall, lanky girl with a vanilla shake in one hand and a badminton racket in the other bounded towards him, a toothy grin stretched across her face. Her lengthy hazel hair was tied up in a chaotic ponytail that trailed loftily behind her. There were slight scuff stains on her button-up shirt and capris, her sneakers tarnished at the tips. Smalls smiled when she finally halted beside him, tapping him on the back with the end of her racket.

"Whatcha' doing here?" she asked, taking a seat on the vacant swivel chair next to him. She set her shake on the counter, along with her racket, and folded her arms over the table, hunching her shoulders. She turned to him and smiled, blue eyes glittering.

"Just getting a shake," he laughed, trying to quell his blush. He was lying to her, and of course she could see through his watery smile and shifty eyes. She arched an eyebrow and perked up, but didn't question him. "What about you?"

"I was just playing badminton over at the park, and then I came over here to get a shake," Rita explained, taking a sip from her beverage. "Man, these shakes are pretty bitchin' aren't they?" Smalls felt the tension drain from him at her statement. Usually when he was around girls, he'd get stiff and he'd clam up. He didn't know how to interact with them—at all. It wasn't like he got the nervous jitters that many teenage boys got when talking to girls; it was more like he was completely horrified of the girls themselves, which was weird! Why did he get like that? He was glad he had at least one girl friend that didn't make him feel so apprehensive, what with her casual boyish attire and loose tongue; the girl sure had a strange vocabulary, a mannish one, but she wasn't the type to get into fights or speak her mind like people would think. Rita was actually kind of shy with people she didn't know personally.

He watched as Rita glimpsed at him from the corner of her eye. She quirked an eyebrow and tilted her head, her lips parting as though she was going to say something, but then seemed to think better of it and continued sipping away at her shake.

"You look pretty spiffy today," she commented between sips. There was a weird glint in her eyes, one that vanished as soon as he saw it. "What's the occasion?"

"No occasion," Smalls quipped, chewing on the end of his straw.

"No, you look different today," she continued, eyeing him warily. "You're dressing like one of the boys—oh! Not that you don't dress like a boy! You just have a very _distinct_ style." Smalls frowned at her and continued to sip away at his shake, hunching his shoulders. He knew he had a rather different style compared to all the trendy boys at school who wore fresh flannels and jeans and Converse shoes. He didn't need anyone to tell him he dressed differently, he knew that already.

"But you look nice," she added, poking him on the shoulder. She seemed to sense that Smalls had mentally gone off on a tangent.

"Thanks," he said offhandedly, breaking away from his musings. They continued to sip at their respected shakes in companionable silence, occasionally making small conversation. Finally, Rita smacked her empty shake cup on the counter and got up from her swivel chair, draping her badminton racket over her shoulder.

"I guess I'll catcha' later Scotty," she smiled, twirling her racket. She tilted her head. "Hey, you wanna' hang out today?"

Smalls looked up at her and finished the last remaining droplets of his shake. He stared at her warily, not sure whether he should accept her invitation. On one hand, hanging out with the only good friend besides Benny sounded enticing. He sort of missed her presence at his side during 7th period US History and 2nd period English. However, on the other hand, he had a mission to complete today. He needed to snag himself a girlfriend, preferably by the end of the day, and if that didn't end up happening, then by tomorrow at least. He was in a hurry.

What the heck.

"I'll hang out," he beamed, standing up alongside her.

"Cool," she exclaimed. "Wanna' catch a movie?"

* * *

They ended up going to a double feature. They went half on the beverages and snacks, and after the movie, Rita challenged him to a game of badminton, even though he had absolutely no idea how to play the sport. He had spent the rest of the day fumbling for this so called "birdy" that wasn't really a bird at all, while Rita yelled that his foot positioning was way off and his swings too low. Overall, he had a pretty nice day with her, even though he had strayed away from his agenda. He could always try again tomorrow.

He was leaning over the water fountain in the park when Rita sidled up to him, tapping him on the shoulder with the end of her racket. Spluttering, Smalls backed away from the fountain, water dribbling down his chin. He glared at her.

"Oops, sorry," Rita apologized, laughing. And then suddenly, her laugh vanished and her cobalt eyes suddenly hardened. Her whole demeanor seemed to tense, and he fleetingly wondered if she'd ever been this serious before. She was usually always laughing and cracking jokes with him.

"Hey um, Scotty, can I ask ya' something?"

Smalls wiped at his chin and slowly nodded, arching a brow. She sounded apprehensive for some reason.

"This is really hard for me to say," she continued hesitantly, locking eyes with him. "You've been a really good friend to me in school, when all the others haven't." It was true. Many people at school tried to keep their distance from the girl who always wore jeans and flannels, hair always tied in a ponytail instead of it being teased and hairsprayed into place. He could sort of sympathize with her—he wore collared shirts and khaki shorts, and his shoes weren't Converse but ratty old sneakers with frayed shoelaces. But really, why was she telling him all this now? He kind of already knew it already.

Rita stood up straight and took a deep breath, eyes averting to the floor. "What I'm trying to say is…I like you."

* * *

Smalls walked home in a daze, stumbling over his feet as he traipsed down the sidewalk. The houses surrounding him passed him in a blur. The trees were blobs of green, the cars just bulky streaks along the streets. The sky was tinged a hazy orange and purple, stars still faint. It wasn't quite dark yet, but it would be soon. His mind felt muggy, and his whole body felt sluggish and slow, as though he were going to collapse right there onto the pavement. Rita liked him. Why?

Rita liked him. He definitely hadn't expected her to bust out with a love confession.

Wow, Rita liked him. He ignored the part of him that screamed "No, this is wrong. I don't even like her like that", but the other part, the other part that needed to find out if he was indeed attracted to…well, the same sex and it wasn't just some fluke, told him that this was the perfect opportunity to experiment. Sure, he felt cruddy for even thinking about Rita in that way, as an experiment, but he really needed this. He had to. And that's why he had accepted her feelings, and starting tomorrow, they'd be going on their first date together. Oh God.

He ran his fingers through his hair, which had ultimately come undone during the badminton match against Rita. He didn't even know where they were going to go! Heck, he hadn't dated before, let alone dated a girl! It wasn't even tomorrow yet and already he was feeling nervous.

"It's okay, Rita's your friend, you'll be okay," he chanted softly to himself. "We'll just go eat somewhere tomorrow and act like we always do during class and- ."

"—Smalls!"

Smalls stopped directly in his tracks, goosebumps trailing across the nape of his neck. He knew who that voice belonged to. A solid and fixed hand clamped down on his shoulder and he was swiftly spun around, effectively going under a bout of vertigo. He stared up into perky hazel eyes, Benny's tall form towering over him. The elder's hair was wild and tussled, his breathing erratic and eyes bright—another fulfilling day at the Sandlot. Several grass and dirt stains marred his jeans and white wife beater, his navy flannel worse for wear.

"Hey man, where were you today?" Benny withdrew his hand and butted the end of his bat on the concrete, twirling it in place. He cocked an eyebrow at Smalls when he didn't respond right away. Finally, the blond shrugged his shoulders and tried to appear casual.

"Went to the malt shop, movies, then the park," Smalls replied slowly, locking his eyes with Benny. This was it, he was going to say that he….that he finally had a girlfriend now. What would Benny do? What would be his reaction? '_I don't know if I can say it. It's embarrassing._' Smalls was more afraid of Benny not reacting at all.

"By yourself?" Benny queried, cocking his head.

"What?"

"Did you do all that stuff by yourself?" Benny repeated. Smalls cocked an eyebrow and shook his head, his cheeks flushing a feeble shade of pink. Was he that pathetic that Benny would think he'd go by himself to all those places? Benny didn't know that yes, Smalls had friends outside the Sandlot clique, though there weren't many, so yeah, Benny would probably think that Smalls was some loner kid who went to the theater by himself and walked aimlessly around in the park with no one by his side. The thought depressed Smalls to some extent.

"I could have gone with you if you just asked ya' know."

"I went with a friend from school," Smalls blurted, immediately snapping his mouth shut. It seemed like he really couldn't go through with telling Benny that he managed to snag a girlfriend after all. Smalls was too afraid to tell him, not because of what the other's reaction might be, but if there'd be a lack of one. What if Benny congratulated him on obtaining a girl instead of frowning upon it? The former would be the most logical response anyway. Smalls liked Benny the same way he should like Rita Lesley, Playboy pin-ups, and swimming pool life guards. Smalls wanted Benny to get upset, he wanted Benny to tell him to break it up immediately because he…..because he…that would never happen. It would never happen in a million years. The notion was too depressing to mull on. Benny would probably clap him on the back and ask if the girl was hot. Smalls couldn't tell Benny, not yet.

Smalls pressed hand to his face and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. He was feeling restless and uncomfortable and the back of his eyes felt sore and on the verge of springing a leak. He just wanted to go home and lay down and turn off his brain until the morning came.

"'kay, but next time tell me if you're not gonna' play ball. No one was home at your place and I was knockin' for a long time," Benny grinned, punching Smalls playfully on the arm. "Are you comin' tomorrow then?"

Smalls breath hitched. He had almost forgotten that he had a date tomorrow! With a girl! With Rita Lesley! He slowly shook his head. "I can't."

Benny frowned, fiddling with the visor of his baseball cap. "Why not?"

"I have plans tomorrow," Smalls admitted, shuffling his feet.

"Damn Smalls, never knew you were so popular. No biggie," Benny laughed, grinning when Smalls' blush only deepened. "Can I come over tonight then?"

Smalls blinked and racked his brain for an answer. "What time at night?" he asked wearily. He had a feeling he already knew the answer.

"The usual. Up for a round of ball and a trip to the Liquor?" Benny leered, sporting an impish grin. "Your treat, since I bought the Cokes last time."

"I can't," Smalls breathed, flinching when Benny's smirk vanished.

"Dude, come on, you missed today, might as well make up for it at night, right?" Benny reasoned, scratching behind his ear. He shot a lopsided grin that almost made Smalls weak at the knees—woah, stop! He had to stop thinking like a damn girl with feelings! Benny only continued, taking a step closer. "If you're strapped for cash, I can buy the drinks, yeah?"

Smalls gulped at their close proximity. He could smell Benny's minty breath, could practically feel it heating up his cheeks, trailing languidly across his face. Why did Benny have to get so darned close? Smalls couldn't concentrate with the boy right up in his face like that.

"I can't Benny. I gotta' get up early tomorrow," Smalls explained tentatively. He dared to glimpse up at Benny. The older teen's lips were twisted into a frown, a thin veil of irritation clouding his eyes. Benny draped his bat over his shoulder, tilting the brim of his hat upwards.

"Alright, alright, fine, whatever," Benny relented, sagging his shoulders. He shot Smalls a mock glower and pointed at him with his index finger. "But I'm coming over tomorrow night. And you're definitely buying, got it?"

"But—no!" Smalls stuttered. What if he was too tired after his date? What if he wasn't even home by then? Okay, no, he was thinking too far ahead. It wasn't like he was going to start spending the night at Rita's place. Besides, he wouldn't want to spend the night with her anyway. Benny on the other hand….Smalls shook his head, ears glowing red. He needed to turn off his brain. Now. "Okay fine, you can come over tomorrow."

Benny smiled sweetly, white teeth glistening. "Bitchin'. See ya' then, since you're gonna' bail on us again tomorrow." Smalls tried to protest, but Benny had already spun himself around and began walking the other direction, trailing his baseball bat behind him. The ends of his flannel shirt trailed behind him in the cool night breeze. Smalls looked up and found that the sky had darkened considerably, the stars glittering and twinkling above.

Smalls frowned. He had a date tomorrow.

* * *

**Tweekerz: :O Alright, so Smalls hasn't told Benny he has a girlfriend yet! -le gasp- So how's Benny gonna' find out? shhhh. it's a secret. Review please! It makes me happy! :D AND WHY AREN'T THERE ANYMORE FANFICS BETWEEN THESE TWO AHGGHIESHGHGARHHHRRRR?**


	5. Chapter 5

**Tweekerz: Thank you for the lovely reviews everyone! And because you guys are all so kind to me, I've decided to type out a longer chapter this time! This chapter's 6,266 words!**

**This is for all the people that have read, alerted, faved and reviewed! Thanks! :]**

* * *

"Calm down," Smalls muttered to himself, his feet tapping restlessly along the tiled floor. "Just play it cool, play it cool."

He was a nervous wreck. He was sitting in a booth at Marty's Malt Shop yet again, his hands folded deftly in front of him. His knees kept knocking together underneath the table and he would occasionally put his hand to the side of his mouth to give himself something to do. He glanced down at his wrist and checked his watch, his stomach doing flips when he realized the time.

It was 12:30. Rita would be here any minute now. Smalls peered from beneath his wispy blond bangs and quickly glanced at the front door, cerulean eyes widening when he saw the willowy figure of Rita coolly striding towards him. Something about her was a little different this time. Her hair, although still in a ponytail, had been combed back more tidily—not a single strand of hair hung down by the sides of her face. She also donned a neat flannel shirt that was actually buttoned this time (she always left it unbuttoned and wore a t-shirt underneath), and instead of wearing capris like she'd done the day before, she was wearing some regular old jeans that were folded at the pant legs.

"Heya' Scotty," Rita chirped, a wide grin spreading across her face. Her teeth were white and glistening and Smalls had to blink a couple of times to adjust his eyes. She practically hopped into the seat opposite him, the table jolting as she nearly fell sideways. "Oops, sorry 'bout that." She adjusted a bottle of ketchup that had accidentally tipped over. "Have you ordered anything yet? Were ya' waiting too long?"

"No, no! Actually, I just got here," Smalls hurriedly explained. "I'll go get the menus." Rita nodded at him and beamed him a smile. He hastily rose from the table and took his time walking the distance from his booth to the register. He could have easily stayed in his seat and flagged the waitress over, but his nerves were getting the best of him. Hopefully, the fleeting trek to the cashier would help quell his nerves somewhat. Why was he feeling like this anyway? This was just Rita Lesley, the same Rita Lesley he became good friends with during his freshman year, nothing had changed. Smalls gulped and nearly tripped over his feet. He forgot one small little detail—Rita Lesley was not only his really good friend, but also his…girlfriend.

Halting in front of the register, Smalls waited until a waitress appeared behind the desk. He quickly asked her for two menus. She smiled at him and shuffled her hand underneath the cashier desk, withdrawing with two plastic menus. She handed them to him and smiled.

"Are you here on a date, sweetheart?" she asked jovially, a laugh lacing her tone. She briefly glanced at Rita who was still sitting in the booth, stacking little packs of jelly into a teetering tower. Smalls tried not to follow the waitress' line of vision.

"Uhm," Smalls floundered, shuffling the two menus back and forth. The waitress' eyed him critically for a second, and then she merely let out a chaste laugh, winking at him.

"It's alright sugar, don't hurt yourself now," she teased, and with that, she turned around and grabbed a dishrag off the counter, heading back into the back part of the shop. Thankful for the abrupt dismissal, Smalls pressed the menus to his chest and traipsed back to his booth. He placed the menus on the table and took a seat, pointedly fixing his eyes on the food items listed on the menus. Some of the items had pictures to the side depicting what the dish would look like, and some merely had a number labeled next to the item.

"Hey, you okay?"

Smalls looked up from his menu and smiled a watery smile. "Yeah!"

Rita arched an eyebrow at him and leaned forward, shoving a pack of jelly to the side. "I know you're lying Scotty."

Smalls' face flushed. He hoped he didn't look as beat red as the thought he looked. Unlike most people, Rita could read other people just as easily as reading a book. She had a keen eye, that girl, and rarely let him slip by if something was troubling him. He valued her friendship, he really, truly did, and just thinking about that made him even guiltier. He was using her. He was using her as a guinea pig, his little experiment—this was wrong, immoral. She was practically his only true friend besides the Sandlot gang. He had eaten with her in the cafeteria all those months when Benny had slinked off to God knows where with his girlfriend. Sitting with the Sandlot boys without Benny felt too awkward and uncomfortable, and Rita being the nice person she was, had offered him a seat at her table. Sometimes they helped each other study; sometimes they passed weird little notes and doodles in class. She was a wonderful girl and an equally wonderful friend, how could he do this to her? He should just get up and leave right now. He would go home and lock himself inside his room, and maybe even lock his windows for good measure, because he sure as heck wouldn't be able to face Benny any time soon. Just looking at that boy made Smalls weak in the knees, and then some.

"Look."

Smalls broke away from his thoughts and stared across at Rita, who had a small smile curved along her lips. "If you feel uncomfortable, it's okay," she breathed, looking down at the table. Her eyes briefly glanced towards the packs of jelly lined along the napkin dispenser, as if she was just itching to stack them again. "'Cuz I feel the same, it's weird ya' know? But I like you." She let out a small laugh. "So let's just act…how we always act around each other, until we get the hang of it. Yeah?"

And Smalls wanted to sink into the ground and never come back up, but then he remembered what she had said. He remembered her smile and her lighthearted attitude and the way she always, always tied her hair up and never let it down. He looked up at her—her eyes were sincere.

"O-okay," he replied shakily. He could deal with that, at least, for now. He was going to try to push his dismal thoughts aside for the sake of this date, for the sake of Rita. He was already doing something so terrible to her, although she didn't know it, and the least he could do was make her happy.

She gently poked his hand and picked up her menu, her eyes alighting in an instant. She peered over the menu with a grin on her face. "I think I'm gonna' get dessert first."

* * *

His first date had gone rather well. They had eaten a pretty generous meal at the malt shop, consisting of burgers, fries, shakes and a slice of pie. Then they had ventured to the local park and fed the ducks and bought an ice cream at a nearby vendor. The date hadn't been that long now that he thought about it, two hours at best, and when the time finally came to split up, Rita had grasped his hand and squeezed it and told him she'd had a really swell time, and that she'd catch him later.

And so here he was sitting on a park bench, his hands pressed to his face. He had been so nervous before, and now, he was completely at ease. He had to admit, they had fun, but it was just that: fun. He didn't know about Rita, but if there was supposed to be any romantic value in this date, he sure didn't feel it. Was that normal? Wasn't your stomach supposed to feel like a swarm of butterflies were fluttering in there? Wasn't he supposed to choke on his words and have sweaty palms?

He immediately jerked his head up when a realization hit him full force. _'I only get like that around Benny.' _He frantically shook his head, his fingers gouging into the fabric of his jeans. He wasn't supposed to feel that way towards a boy! That's how he was supposed to act around Rita and girls in general! He dismally put his head in his hands, palming his forehead in soothing, circular motions. Why couldn't his brain just think properly for once?

"Smalls!"

Smalls nearly jumped out of his seat. He hastily looked up and straightened himself, eyes growing wide as he spotted Squints and Yeah-Yeah in the distance. What the—what were they doing here? Squints was busy shoving his glasses into place after having polished them on the hem of his shirt, and Yeah-Yeah was shoving a piece of cotton-candy into his mouth. They both looked peppy and cheerful.

"'Sup Smalls," Yeah-Yeah greeted in between bites. He shoved another piece of cotton candy in his mouth.

"Whatcha' doin' here by yourself?" Squints asked, squinting as a ray of sunlight poked through the canopy of trees above. Smalls didn't want to answer him, but he knew that he had to say something in order to feign innocence. He couldn't tell them that he had been on a date. If Benny didn't know yet, they wouldn't either. He looked across at the man-made lake in the center of the park, watching the ducks mill around the water. It was peaceful, watching the ducks, and the trees whistled and rattled along with the gentle breeze. Why couldn't Squints and Yeah-Yeah just go away? All he wanted to do was just sit here and wallow in his own despair until he felt good enough to man it back home.

"Aren't you guys supposed to be at the Sandlot?" Smalls queried. It was better to change the subject than head the other route. Hopefully they'd take the bait.

"Benny let us out early," Squints exclaimed, beaming Smalls a wide smile. "The carnival's in town!"

"Yeah, yeah!" Yeah-Yeah supplied. Of course- that explained the cotton-candy, and the fact that they weren't at the Sandlot. Usually the boys let out around sunset, and it was still only about 2:30.

"Did everyone go?" Smalls asked, shifting his eyes. If they all ended up going to the carnival, then that meant Benny was around here somewhere. Just thinking about the older boy sent him into a spiral. He couldn't face Benny right now, not after he just finished his date. Oh God, maybe he should just slowly get up and slink away. He could tell Squints he had to go take a leak or something.

"We all went, but we sort of split up," Yeah-Yeah replied. "They're prolly' still over there right now. Iono."

"Oh, okay," Smalls nodded. That was good—that meant Benny wasn't with them. Still, he felt the need to leave. "Well, I gotta' go home then. I'll see you guys at the Sandlot tomorrow-."

"No Sandlot tomorrow," Squints cut in, stealthily sneaking a bit of cotton candy from Yeah-Yeah. "We all might go to the carnival again."

"Really? Alright," Smalls spoke under his breath. He finally heaved himself up and stood from the bench. He waved at the both of them. "I'll see ya' then, maybe."

Squints waved back and Yeah-Yeah merely nodded, still stuffing his face with cotton-candy. Smalls smiled awkwardly and turned away from them, walking the opposite direction. He stuffed his hands into his jean pockets and hunched himself forward. That was a close call, a really, really close call. If Benny had been with them…Smalls flushed. He didn't even want to think about it. Squints and Yeah-Yeah might've not questioned him any further, but Benny would have. The Latino would have drilled him, subtly so, because sitting by yourself on a bench in the middle of the park wasn't very normal, at least not for Smalls. When he was bothered by something, he usually wore his emotions on his sleeve, so to speak. Usually he would sulk or sigh, or maybe even scrunch his face in displeasure—sitting by himself with his head in his hands was a sure sign that there was something serious plaguing him.

With his thoughts still racing, Smalls headed home.

* * *

Smalls sat in his bed, his back against the wall. He had a sketch pad in his lap, his pencil swirling and zigzagging across the page. He royally sucked at drawing, but he enjoyed doodling and making random designs regardless. Sometimes he made intricate swirls and loops, and sometimes he made complicated mazes—doodling was something that distracted him. His attention would be focused solely on the paper and nothing else, and he was only doodling right now because he was anxious.

He was waiting for Benny to arrive.

Smalls hadn't talked to the boy since the day before his date, but Benny had said that he would meet him tonight. Smalls glimpsed at his bedside table. His wallet was already out, since he forgot it the last time they sneaked out, and he was still dressed in the clothes he'd worn on his date. Thankfully, Bill and his mom had already gone to bed—his mother would have asked him why he wasn't dressed in his sleep wear yet, and then everything would just be so hard to explain. Taking a deep breath, Smalls continued doodling in his sketchpad. He did this for about ten more minutes, until a shrill tap at his window made him gasp. Smalls set his sketchpad and pencil to the side and threw his legs over the edge of the bed, heaving himself up. He then padded across his room to the window and drew back the curtains. His breath caught when he saw Benny peering in through the window, a grin on his face. Smalls made to unlatch the window and drew it up with the help of Benny, who seemed to be slightly impatient. He usually never helped Smalls with the window.

"Ready?" Benny drawled, folding his arms along the windowsill. Smalls merely nodded and trekked back across his room, stuffing his wallet into his side-pocket. He then switched off his bedside lamp and quietly ventured back towards the window. Benny backed up and Smalls threw his legs over the sill. He then swiftly hopped down and landed on the grass with a dull thud. Benny stuck his hand through the window and drew the curtains closed, then slid the window down until only an inch remained open.

"Thanks," Smalls whispered, rubbing his palms along the sides of his jeans. He might have gotten a splinter from the window sill. He glimpsed at Benny and found that the older teen didn't have his baseball bat with him, nor his mitt, or even a ball. Weren't they going to the Sandlot? Usually Benny always provided the equipment. "Where's your bat and stuff?"

"We're not going to the Sandlot tonight," Benny replied, smiling. Smalls quirked a brow. They both began walking over Smalls' front lawn until they stepped onto the sidewalk.

"Are we still going to the liquor store?"

"Yep," Benny quipped, clasping his hands behind his back. He looked at Smalls smugly.

"Is that all we're going to do?" Smalls asked, confused. Were they just going to the liquor store to buy some drinks, and then head back home? That was hardly worth sneaking out.

"We're going to the carnival."

Smalls nearly halted in his tracks. "What? But it's closed by now! It's late!"

"We're sneaking in," Benny smirked, turning to look at Smalls. "After we buy some drinks first."

"But what's the point of sneaking into a carnival at night when we won't be able to get on any rides?" Smalls asked slowly. Seriously, what was the point? All the rides would be shut down, and they didn't have any idea how to operate them.

"Relax, Smalls," Benny said. He adjusted the hem of his flannel. "We're gonna' sneak in just to sneak in, there's nothing to it. Might be fun."

"But…" Smalls trailed off. What if they got caught?

"We can even steal some prizes or some shit from the booths," Benny added, as if this would sooth Smalls' nerves, because it certainly didn't. It made the blond teen panic even more. This was wrong! What if they got caught for sneaking in, or even worse, for stealing? What was Benny thinking? Benny must have noticed the frantic expression on the younger's face, because he placed his hand at the back of Smalls' neck.

"It's okay, we won't get caught," Benny laughed, flicking Smalls on his temple. He removed his hand and let it drop to his side. Meanwhile, Smalls' head was cast down and he was trying to fend off the blush that was threatening to take over his face. Holy crap, thank God it was dark out. He could still feel the heat pulsate along his neck where Benny had touched him. It felt warm and tingly and Smalls couldn't help but suppress a shiver. He clenched his fingers into fists—his emotions were getting stronger day by day, how long was he going to be able to reel himself in? He couldn't keep doing this.

"You have a girlfriend now," Smalls whispered to himself, trying to imagine Rita. He failed miserably.

"What?" Benny asked, leaning forward. "Hey man, you okay?"

"Yeah!" Smalls hastily replied, picking his head up. He needed to act cool and casual, like Rita. Yeah—if he acted more like her, maybe then Benny wouldn't fluster him so easily. "Alright, let's go then."

"Bitchin'," Benny grinned. They continued to walk down the sidewalk in silence. Maybe to Benny it might have been companionable, but Smalls felt that it was tense. He knew it was wrong to feel this way, but he felt guilty walking beside Benny, as if he were betraying Rita in some way. But he wasn't doing anything remotely close to that, right? Just a couple of friends walking side by side—at midnight. Okay, maybe the last part was a little strange. There weren't many teenagers out this late, excluding the delinquents that did it on a daily basis, you know, the ones that smoked in the bathrooms during class time or ditched school completely.

"So are you buying or am I?" Benny suddenly asked, tilting his baseball cap. It took Smalls a couple of seconds to process his friend's question. Finally, he got it.

"I thought you told me I was buying this time?" Smalls murmured, sticking his hand into his jean pocket. He withdrew with his wallet.

"Just asking," Benny supplied.

"Oh."

Okay, maybe Smalls was wrong. Now, it was officially awkward.

* * *

"Uhm, I don't think this is a good idea."

He pressed himself against the chain-link fence that enveloped the carnival's perimeter. Benny finished the last of his soda and flung the bottle to the side, where it smashed against the ground, sending shards of glass skittering across the concrete. Smalls ignored the sound and hooked his fingers through the chain links and stared beyond, his bottle clinking against the fence. The carnival looked lifeless and obscure, and maybe a little bit eerie, but he'd never say it aloud. He didn't want the older boy to think he was a complete wimp. Some of the rides were covered in black tarp, and some were left bare, but all of them were motionless. He watched as a paper cup scuttled along the ground, the wind pressing it against the chain fence. When Smalls backed away from the enclosure and turned towards Benny, he nearly dropped his bottle.

The raven haired boy was already heaving himself up the fence, the tips of his shoes shoved between the connected grooves. Smalls speedily shambled over to his friend and stared up at him, watching the ends of his flannel trail behind him.

"Benny!" Smalls called up to him. He could hear Benny grunting as he made his way up the fence. He was a fast climber, agile and swift, and in a matter of seconds, he managed to reach the top, where he swung his legs over the fence. He then gradually shimmied his way down the barrier until the height was low enough for him to jump off. Benny let go of the fence and dropped to the ground on his feet, kicking up a grubby cloud of dust and gravel. He adjusted his cap and lifted his head, flashing Smalls a sultry grin. He then hooked his fingers through the chain links and pressed himself against the fence, beckoning Smalls closer. Smalls gulped and took a few steps forward.

When he was only a few inches away from the fence, he looked up. It seemed like the enclosure was at least 50 feet tall, but in reality it was only about 14 feet. He suddenly felt incredibly small as he fixed his gaze on Benny, whose hazel eyes were bright despite the dark.

"I can't climb that," Smalls hissed under his breath, hugging his Coke bottle to his chest.

"You never hopped a fence before?" Benny chuckled, swaying back and forth against the fence.

Smalls gulped and turned his head. "No…I never had a reason to, but seriously. I can't climb this thing."

"Come on man, you can do it," Benny ebbed, kicking the fence with his foot. "Just climb up and I'll help you get down."

Smalls tapped the end of his bottle against his thigh, contemplating Benny's proposition. He wasn't really scared of scaling the fence; the only problem he had was actually getting back down. He was a major klutz- he could already picture himself getting stuck and falling from the top to his doom. He'd get injured and humiliate himself all in one go.

"I can't…" Smalls slurred, looking up at the fence once again. He bit at the inside of his cheek.

"Smalls."

The blonde lowered his head and stared across at Benny. The older teen was leaning against the fence, brown eyes penetrating. Eyes fluttering, Smalls finally acquiesced and took a final swig of his Coke. He let it thud to the ground and stepped forward. He stood face to face with Benny, who took a step back, his arms crossed over his lean chest.

"Fine," Smalls murmured. He pressed his palms against the fence and hooked his fingers through the chain links. "You better help me get down though." He heard Benny let out an indulgent laugh. Taking a deep breath, Smalls lifted his leg and pushed the tip of his shoe through one of the chain links, then gradually heaved himself up, hooking his other foot into another chain link. He repeated the pattern, his palms pressed against the cold, wiry metal. Once or twice he accidentally jammed his knee into the fence, wincing and cursing under his breath.

He could practically feel Benny's gaze on him—Smalls didn't want to look down and confirm either. His face was probably red, and his neck felt too warm despite the cold chill of the wind nipping at his skin, and then finally, he was at the top. He mimicked what Benny had done and cautiously lifted his leg over the top of the fence, the metal spokes nicking his jeans, but not enough to pierce through to his skin. He shakily brought the rest of his body over and managed to hook his feet through the chain links on the other side of the fence….and stopped. He was stuck. He warily glimpsed down.

"Oh man," he whispered. The ground looked so far away, how the heck was he supposed to get down from here?

"Try to get at least half way down," Benny called from down below.

"But I can't!" Smalls breathed, his fingers clutching the wired barrier. He thudded his forehead against the metal, his knees knocking together. This was embarrassing, mortifying even. Here he was suspended at least 14 feet in the air, and he was stuck. _Kill me now._

"Smalls, man, listen to me," Benny continued. His voice sounded so far away, yet Smalls clung to it like a lifeline. "Just move down a little, then let go."

"What?"

"I'll catch you!" Benny hastily added.

"No way man, no way!" Smalls nearly shouted, shaking his head. "You'll miss!"

"Trust me," Benny coaxed. "You're small enough, I'll catch you."

"Gee, thanks," Smalls hissed.

"Just do it."

Smalls gulped and took a moment to calm his breathing, and in the next second, he shifted. He slowly lowered his right foot and managed to snag it through a chain link, then repeated the motion with his other foot. It was slow going and arduous, but Smalls was making progress. He managed to lower himself at least two feet down, then he halted.

"Can I let go now?" he squeaked, briefly shutting his eyes.

"Move down a couple of more inches," Benny replied. Smalls nodded and did as he was told.

"Now?"

"Yeah, drop," Benny commanded. With a lungful of breath, Smalls loosened his fingers and let go of the fence. Gravity caught up with him and he could feel himself dropping, plummeting to the ground at a death defying pace, but then a pair of arms wrapped around him and his back was pressed flush to Benny's warm chest. His feet hit the ground with a stiff thud and he nearly toppled forward, but Benny's grip on him was steadfast.

"You okay?"

Smalls could feel Benny's breath fan against the side of his neck, and instinctively, the blond pulled away and pretended to dust himself off. He replied with a shaky, "Yeah, m'fine."

"Cool, let's go then," Benny offered. The Latino twirled around on his heels and began walking, Smalls trailing along shortly after. The blond scanned his eyes over the many rides and attractions that riddled the lot on either side of him. Many of the booths weren't even closed at all—some still had prizes adorning the walls, free for the taking- not that he'd actually take anything. Smalls frowned as they passed by a ride in particular. It was the same ride that he and all the Sandlot kids had rode when they were still in middle school; the one they had all thrown up on. Just thinking about that day made his stomach churn. Never again.

Smalls was pulled from his musings when he heard a scuffling sound in the distance. His eyes widened when he found Benny leaning over a booth, nearly throwing himself over the counter. Smalls reluctantly jogged his way towards his friend.

"What are you doing?" Smalls whispered, shifting his eyes side to side. He still wasn't sure if there were any guards here, what if they got caught? Someone had to be on lookout. When Benny withdrew with two sticks of pre-wrapped cotton candy, Smalls could only let a slight smile take hold of his lips.

"Pink or blue?" Benny asked, holding the cotton candy aloft. Smalls shrugged his shoulders, and Benny ended up handing him the pink one. The younger teen scoffed.

"So, I heard you met Squints and Yeah-Yeah at the park," Benny began as he unwrapped his cotton candy.

"Oh, yeah, I did," Smalls replied aversely. He should have known that the boys would eventually tell Benny of their meeting.

"What were you doing there by yourself?" Benny continued, stuffing a fluffy wisp of candy into his mouth. His tone wasn't imposing; it seemed he was just mildly curious.

Smalls stilled. He didn't have an answer ready, he hadn't prepared for this conversation! How was he supposed to answer? He couldn't tell Benny the truth yet, not until he knew what he was dealing with in terms of his emotions. He had to lie—he had to lie, lie, lie, lie. But what would he say?

"I was supposed to meet my cousin there, but he didn't show up," Smalls babbled. The lie left a bitter taste in his mouth, but he kept at it. He couldn't keep his mouth shut. "So then I got an ice cream and sat down. I got lazy, haha."

"That sucks, you missed out on the carnival," Benny chided, glimpsing at the other out of the corner of his eye. Smalls caught the look and averted his eyes, busying himself with unwrapping his treat. He couldn't tell if Benny had bought the lie or not, and he didn't want to find out. He finally managed to peel the plastic off and crumpled it into a little ball, the material crackling against his palm. Spotting a trashcan just a couple of feet away, he jogged towards it and dumped the plastic in the bin. He heard Benny sidle up next to him, still munching away on his candy. "We're going again tomorrow," the older teen added, licking his fingers. "You should come, or are you gonna' be 'busy' again?"

Smalls bit his lip and hovered over the trashcan, looking into its depths. There were half-eaten funnel cakes and bottles of soda strewn within the bin, globs of food sticking to the can's sides. He thought back to his date and wondered if he and Rita had made any future plans—they hadn't. All she had told him was the she'd see him later, whenever that was. She knew where he lived anyway, all she had to do was come on over and set a date. Smalls cursed himself—he should have at least asked for her phone number.

"I'm not busy," Smalls said quietly, stepping away from the trashcan. He turned around and looked at Benny. The Latino was staring at him, hazel eyes attentive, all the while casually eating at his cotton candy. The spell was broken when Benny shifted his gaze to the distance.

"Hey, wanna' try that?" Benny queried. Smalls followed his friend's line of vision and anchored his eyes upon a lone building that stood opposite them. It was a shabby two-story structure spray-painted a dark indigo, and a faded marquee hung suspended at the top of the building, reading "House of Mirrors" in gold embossed letters. The name was a bit tacky and unoriginal, but of course, what did he expect? It was only a local carnival, nothing special, now if it had been a county fair it would have been different.

"I guess," Smalls shrugged, even if he really didn't want to. It wasn't like he was immensely terrified of going in, it's just…it looked kind of eerie, all dark and full of mirrors. What if it was haunted? Or what if there were squatters in there or something?

"Come on."

Smalls popped a piece of cotton candy in his mouth and reluctantly followed Benny. When they reached the House of Mirrors, Benny halted and stared up at the structure, a smile on his face.

"There's a slide at the top," the Latino observed. He finished up the last of his candy and threw the stick aside, where it rolled across the concrete and plopped into a puddle of murky water.

"We're not five," Smalls commented, shifting his weight about his feet.

"So?" Benny jibed, peering over his shoulder. Smalls shivered, goosebumps springing along the nape of his neck and trailing down the length of his arms. He hated when Benny looked at him like that (secretly he loved it), all mischievous and roguish, as if he had some conniving plan up his sleeve.

"I'm not really good at those," Smalls sighed.

"The mirror maze? You scared?" Benny laughed, striding over to the building's front ramp. He stepped foot onto the ramp and clasped the railing, leaning over the metal barriers. "You're killin' me Smalls."

Smalls inwardly grimaced.

"Not like you're gonna' get trapped in there forever," Benny continued, resting his body over the railing.  
"Just feel your way out. Come on." Benny let go of the barrier and traveled the rest of the way up the ramp, his footsteps sounding hollow as he walked. In a matter of moments, Benny had stepped through the opening and was lost to the maze of mirrors. Smalls stood on his tip-toes and tried to peer inside the building, but all he could see was darkness and the occasional glint from a mirror.

"Benny?" he hesitantly called. When he received no answer, Smalls cursed under his breath and made his way towards the ramp. When he got to the entrance, he cautiously peered inside. The place was surrounded by mirrors, mirrors, and more mirrors. Gulping, he forced himself to take a step forward. He met his reflection frontways, sideways, and backways—whichever way there was. As he continued forward, he accidentally rammed into a mirror, his nose smashing against the glass. He gasped and jumped backwards, his back thumping against another mirror. He tenderly rubbed at his nose, wincing from the pain. Was it broken? He held his arms aloft and felt around for an opening, thinking of Benny's advice, and when his hand didn't jam into a mirror, he stepped forward and continued. He spent the next nine minutes maneuvering through the maze. He wasn't too bad at it actually; he was just very, very slow and sluggish. He was afraid of ramming into another mirror and further damaging himself. He already hurt his nose, even though the pain had ebbed away some time ago.

Finally, he hit the end of the maze. He peered across and noticed a set of spiral stairs leading towards the second floor. With a sigh of relief, he stepped out of the maze of mirrors and made his way towards the staircase. He clambered up the spiral steps, his hands sliding along the smooth metal banister, and when he reached the top, he stepped onto a small balcony that led way to a giant spiraling slide. He stood before the slide, staring into it. The slide was enclosed and looked like a looping tunnel, its depths dark and shady. Had Benny already gone down?

"Boo."

Smalls clamped his hand over his mouth to contain his scream. He could feel a warm puff of breath ghost along his ear down to his neck, and when he took a step back, he collided with something warm. He could hear Benny softly laughing behind him. Two tanned arms snaked around Small's waist to hold the blond steady.

"Haha, you scream like a girl," Benny murmured. Smalls immediately jumped away and grabbed hold of the balcony railing. He turned around and pressed his back against the fence, the wind sending his hair billowing.

"Geez, don't do that," Smalls whispered. He looked over the railing and winced at how high up he was. Either he went back downstairs through the maze again, or he went down the tunnel slide—he wasn't very partial to either choice.

"You goin' down or what?" Benny asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Smalls slightly nodded and shuffled over towards the mouth of the slide. This was really embarrassing. He was a high school student about to go down a kiddy slide; if any of the Sandlot boys saw him doing this, they'd laugh him out of the Sandlot. But then again, it was night out and everyone was at home asleep in their beds. It was just he and Benny alone inside a carnival that they happened to sneak into. Smalls sighed—he'd have to start locking his window.

"Hurry up, we still haven't raided the prizes yet," Benny urged from behind. Smalls lowered himself until he sat at the lip of the slide, peering over his shoulder and shooting Benny a wry glare. The older teen merely shrugged and arched a brow. Smalls turned away from him, and in the next instant, he felt something collide with his back. He was sent hurdling down the enclosed slide, Benny right on his tail. Was that Benny's legs pressed against him, or his back, or his arms, or—Smalls had no idea. They were a chaotic tangle of limbs, and when they finally reached the bottom of the slide, they tumbled out and hit the ground hard.

Smalls was sent sprawling across the ground, his back thumping harshly against the concrete. Benny followed soon after, and Smalls nearly got the wind knocked out of him when the older boy landed on Small's chest face-first. The blond sucked in a breath and winced, prying his eyes open. All he could see was the dark night sky, and stars, and the moon, and….and Benny?

Benny had marginally raised himself, his hands pressed on either side of Smalls' shoulders. Smalls stared up at the towering form of the boy looming over him, blue eyes wide. For once, Benny's face was impassive. There was no smirk, no careful arch of an eyebrow—nothing. The Latino's hazel eyes were swirling with something; Smalls didn't want to read into it too much, nor did he want to continue their little staring contest. Why couldn't he look away, why couldn't Benny just look away, or something! Were they going to just lay there the whole night or what? What was the point in…wait. Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. Smalls began breathing harder and harder, and Benny's face was getting closer, and closer, and closer, until only inches separated them and Small's could feel the other's sweet breath fan against his face, and before Benny could advance any further, Smalls shut his eyes and blurted,

"I have a girlfriend!"

* * *

**Oh, the dreaded cliffhanger.**


End file.
